I spent a not insignificant portion of my high school years reading English handbooks for fun, and delighting in things like Lynn Truss'
Eats, Shoots and Leaves and while my grammar in my essays was (and is to this day) impeccable, and I was called upon by my friends when they were students to proofread for them, I did eventually realise I had also become a massive jerk when it came to language. It was like I had stopped enjoying language, and starting enjoying finding others' faults with it.
I was the guy on forums, quite likely on older iterations of this group (back in the image days), quoting posts and adding
nothing to the conversation but rearranging sentences so they didn't end with prepositions, and changing 'who' to 'whom' and 'me' to 'I' or vice-versa. Worse yet, I'd not only edit these posts and smugly add FTFY as though their message had been unintelligible until I saved it, I'd offer up a little English lesson to go along with it, explaining objects and subjects and so on. God, I think about it with a mixture of guilt and shame and embarrassment. When I reflect on the feedback, I was largely ignored, and even occasionally defended, but also attacked. But I have to think the attacks were seldom or ineffective for I don't remember any specific one. You were all far too patient with me.
At any rate, as I grew up, I learned all sorts of new things about grammar, and also how to appreciate literature and poetry and the power of
breaking the rules, and the fact that many 'rules' aren't rules, like that infuriating nonsense about using prepositions to end a sentence with...
And while I hardly think our dear acquaintance
Tress is guilty of my previous sins as self-proclaimed enforcer of the purity of the English language, and in fact I wholly sympathise with his pet peeve about the word literally used figuratively, I must follow my new path of balance: that grammar and language guide us to a point, but they are there
for us to express ourselves and not to chain us to mediocre, twisted sentences reconstructed and reworded such that the joy, glory and power of expression cannot shine through. For should that infernal oxford comma limit your soul, or if you know you are
literally alight with glee, then I beg you to tear up your handbooks, spurn the Lynn Truss' of the world
and
write
however the hell
you want.
But
god help you if I catch you using 'ironically' incorrectly.